


Servants of the Door

by CrispyDen



Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Horror, Child Death, Hallucinations, Hospital, Mental Institutions, Original Fiction, Psychological Horror, Self-Harm, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-05-09 15:52:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14719091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrispyDen/pseuds/CrispyDen
Summary: Tatton Hill was a place where children came in and usually never left. Listening to friends through thin dry wall, speaking to creatures in the night and offerings to a legless man who live in the walls. Weston and his friends live within confinement where they're kept in the dark by the adults who run their lives. When things start to slip, can the adults keep these kids under control?





	1. Chapter 1

“I would like to go home now,” whispered Weston. “I don’t like this place.” Nanny laughed softly as she felt a hand over the child’s hair. “Now, West, you are home! Just come with me, let’s get you dinner.” Weston shook his head as he wiped tears as he followed the old lady down to the kitchen. She sat the boy at the dining room table before she vanished into the kitchen. Weston didn’t like Nanny. She didn’t allow him to do anything alone. Weston fiddled with his hands as he sat at the large table. Nanny didn’t like him going into the kitchen especially. There was a tap at the tiny door near the fireplace. Weston quickly gave his full attention to the door, getting up as quietly as possible to go to the fireplace. The small door creaked open and out crawled the man with no legs. He had a balding head and a tattered night shirt covering his torso. 

“Hello, Beauregard, how are you tonight?” asked the Weston with a smile. The man with no legs gave an exhausted chuckle before resting against the wall, “All is well. Would you mind slipping me a glass of milk before you go to bed?” Weston smiled with a smile. Beauregard shuffled back into the crawlspace and Weston rushed to the table at the sound of Nanny’s footsteps. Nanny was a terrible cook. Weston ate in silence, the food was bland and the only thing with flavor was the milk. As his friend asked, Weston requested a second glass of milk. When Nanny took his dished, the boy scooted the cup into the crawlspace. She came back into the dining room to get him into the bath and bed. “Nanny, can I see my Mom?”

Nanny laughed again, “No no, she won’t be in until next week! But, you can visit your friend Cigarette if you’d like while I draw your bath.” Weston was sent to his room while Nanny got his bath ready. He moved his toy chest to a hole in the wall, crawling through to the other side. There was a small room where the walls were thin. He could speak to Cigarette there. Sour singing came from the other side of the wall. Weston stole a cup from Nanny so he could put it to the surface to hear Cigarette better. She wasn’t a good singer but Weston liked to listen.

“Cigarette? How was your day?”

The singing stopped and there was soft footsteps, “Father visited me. It was nice, but Governess made him leave. Has Beauregard visited?”

“Yes. He asked for a glass of milk today. What did he ask of you?”

“A towel and a candy bar. Governess almost took it from me but I kept it away!” Cigarette said in pride. She always sounded raspy, and there was the sound of beeping and machines in her room. They all called her Cigarette, because according to Nanny, it sounds like she’s always been smoking. “My Mother isn’t coming back. Father may not either,” murmured against the wall. “I may not be her much longer either.” 

Weston frowned and leaned against the wall, “Leaving? You can do that?” 

“I dunno. But Governess said that I wasn’t gonna be here much longer at Tatton Hill.”

Cigarette went silent when there was the sound of the door opening. Governess must have come in to give Cigarette her medicine. Nanny was waiting for Weston when he crawled out from the very tiny room. She took him to the bathroom, stripped him down and put him in the bath. After Nanny brushed his hair, dressed him for bed and then tucked him in. She blew out the candle and left the room. She locked the door behind her. Weston hated the door being locked but, Nanny always locked it.  Beauregard said he could use his door as long as he left him something. Weston moved to the window to look out at the storm that was pounding the glass. It soothed him. Storms made being at Tatton Hill seem calm. Weston moved to Beauregard’s door before knocking on it. It opened up, the no-legged man crawled out. 

“Do you need something, Weston?” said the man.

“I’d like to use your door,” replied Weston as he offered Beauregard a paper ball wrapped in twine. 

The balding man pulled the twine to reveal a ball of rose marzipan. Beauregard chuckled before resting against the wall to let Weston go through. The boy didn’t like the smell of the tunnels. Old leather cologne, shaving cream, rust and mildew. He wondered how the balding man lived in them for as long as he has. The child found his way to the hall, taking a candle off the wall. Thunder startled him as he walked down the hall towards the parlor of the Tatton Hill main building. Sitting down in the center of the huge rug in the parlor and holding the candle tight. 

“Float? Are you there?” Weston asked into the large room. 

Down from the chandelier came the small spider child, Float. She giggled at him, her arms tied around her body with her own webbing. 

“Hello, Weston, hello hello!” she hummed and nuzzled against his cheek. 

“Still stuck?” Weston asked as he felt over the tight binding.

“Stuck? Always stuck, very stuck and not unstuck!” Float chirped as she tied to use her legs to pry off the webbings. The boy rummaged through his night shirt pocket and set down a handful of squished flies. Float wiggled herself upright before laying on the floor, legs sprawled out as she licked up the dead bugs. “That’s really gross, Float. Is Nanny gonna help you out of the web?” The spider girl licked the juices from her mouth, scrambling to her feet. “Nanny? No Nanny! Weis! Weis wrapped me! Mr. Weis!”

With a loud clunk, the front doors opened wide and a light opened wide and a woman in white stepped in. She gave a sigh as she picked up Weston and the flashlight on the floor.

“I don’t understand how you keep getting out of your room, Weston. Let’s get you back to your room. You need to leave Floria alone,” said Nurse Nann. The boy struggled against her to fight out of her grasp. The white walls and floors made his eyes hurt, he didn’t like the stark walls. He wanted his old room back, his own bed more than anything. 

“Let me go, Nanny!!” 

“Weston, calm down! Dr. Weis!” 

A doctor ran to Nurse Nann, helping pin the boy down to the floor. They gave him a shot that made the boy scream at the top of his lungs. Soon, he was almost asleep. Nurse Nann picked up Weston to put him back in his room. He could hear the beeping and whirring of Cigarette’s room before Nanny locked him back in his room. He felt at the pure white bed sheets, his vision spinning as he looked over the room. Tatton Hill Child Asylum did what it could to take care of these children. Even its most troublesome cases, like Weston Tatton. 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Dr. Weis:  _ July 8th, I have with me eleven year old  hospice patient, Melonie Holt. I am recording this interview to further understand the phenomenon that is spreading through the asylum. Say “Hello”, Melonie. _

 

(There was the sound of soft breathing in a dull silence. )

 

Dr. Weis:  _ Melonie? Can you answer me, please? Melonie? Cigarette?  _

 

Melonie: (coughing)  _ What is it? Can’t you talk without moving your mouth, Mr. Weis? I wanna go back to my room. _

 

Dr. Weis:  _ I’m sorry but- _

 

Melonie:  _  I’m in a lot of pain. I don’t want to be here. I would like to go back to my room now.  _ (Soft scratching)

 

Dr. Weis:  _ Melonie is now scratching at her arm, seemingly trying to pick something out of her skin. What are you trying to do, Melonie?  _ (clears throat)  _ Cigarette? _

 

Melonie:  _ The bugs in my skin are itchy. Governess won’t help me get rid of them. _ __  
  


Dr. Weis:  _ Governess.. You mean Nurse Grover?  _

 

(Silence)

 

Dr. Weis:  _ Why do they call you “Cigarette”? This has just recently started, hasn’t it? Why do Randy, Weston, Halie and Floria call you “Cigarette”?  _

 

Melonie:  _ I don’t know those people.  _ (Scratching continues)

 

(Muffled sound of papers being turned)

 

Dr. Weis:  _ Why do.. “Question”, “Note”, “Float”, and Weston call you “Cigarette”? _

 

(Silence)

 

Dr. Weis:  _ Melonie has gone silent and has scratched her skin to the point of bleeding. This will end the session for today.  _

 

___________________________________

 

Weston rested in his bed, the medication wearing off soon so he would wake up. He gave a groan at the feeling of the tranquilizers leaving his system. The walls shifted from the white walls to the dark mansion walls he shared vision with the rest of his friends. The child pulled himself off the bed to feel at the walls before his medication failed him. Walls melting from the clean white color to the dusty brown wood paneling of the Tatton Hill he remembered. He felt down to Beauregard's door to try and pry it open. It was useless, the legless man only unlocked it when someone gave him an offering. He wanted out of the room Weston ruffled his short black hair as he huddled against the door. The child’s anxiety tightened at his chest which made his breathing erratic. The movement made Nanny enter and scoop up the boy before sitting him down on the bed. She handed him candy tablets with some water. Nanny reminded him not to chew them and he swallowed them down with the water. He didn’t like these candies. They tasted bitter on the back of his tongue. Nanny adjusted Weston’s shirt to pull it lower and away from his neck, “We have group today. Are you ready to see gurple purlge and nudet?” He paused to shake his head a moment, wringing two fingers in his ears. “Who, Nanny?”

The woman raise a brow before having him stand, “Pill, Question and Note. You don’t recognize their names?” Those names he did. The other names were all gook before. Pill and Question were two big boys from the other hallway and it was nice to get to talk to them. Note, Cigarette and Float were the only other kids in the little kid hall with him. Weston didn’t like being the only boy so he felt a little better talking with Pill and Question. Pitter pat pitter pat his feet tapped the cold tile, moving a bit ahead of Nurse Nan. Note was at one of the tables by the window to draw in the sunlight. Taking a seat beside the girl, “That’s a nice drawing.” 

Note tucked her brown sheet of hair behind her ear to show her face to Weston. “Thank you. It’s Beauregard, see?” She showed him the lined paper. A legless man was on the page with a stoic expression on his face. Lots of detail went into it, Note was talented for ten. In soon walked Pill and Question led by Nurse Nan. Cuffs clasped them together with curly red headed Pill on the left and brown haired Question on the other. 

“What happened with you two?” asked Note with a raised brow. 

 

Pill chuckled as he locked fingers with Question, “Failed magic trick.” Note went back to her drawing of Beauregard as the two teens kissed each other on the cheek. Nanny made them stop, swatting each boy on the head. Breakfast came into the room and was handed to each patient. Eggs on toast with sausage for Weston, Note ate a mix of pomegranate seeds with yogurt then the big boys worked together to feed each other a shared plate of bacon and a short-stack of pancakes. The scent of maple syrup was sickly thick in the air from the two older boys. Note scrunched her nose at the odor before hopping to another table to escape it. 

 

“What’s with you, Page?” Question chuckled as he leaned on his palm to look at the young girl. She turned her back to him and let her hair fall to hide her face. Pill elbowed his partner in the ribs, “Be nice to Note. We’ve all got it bad here.”

 

Weston picked at the skin beside his fingernails as he examined the many scars on Question’s arms. What did that? What hurt him? They were thin scars that overlapped one another over and over. He didn’t notice it but Weston made his fingers bleed again from peeling the skin back.  Not too much later after Nurse Nan set up the chairs in a circle, came in Dr. Weis. The graying man whispered to her, keeping a hand close to his mouth. Left handed Pill cuffed to right handed Question were seated by the doctor before Note and Weston. Nurse Nan brought in Float, snared in a many fastened lock jacket. The girl’s ankles were strapped tight to the foot rests of the wheeled chair. A large mass of tight curled black bangs shrouded her eyes, the bush of hair tied back as a puff on her head. This was one of the times that Weston say Float so calm when usually it would be impossible to keep her still. Nanny had Note beside Float’s roller-chair then Weston beside Pill. Where was Cigarette? No, soon Governess would bring her in! They couldn’t start without Cigarette! Never started without Cigarette. 

Dr. Weis sat down in the empty chair at the gap in the circle. No! We cant’ start-   
  


“Hello everyone, it’s nice to see you all again,” he began. Note turned her slightly hidden gaze to Weston then to the big kids, “Mr. Weis? What about-”

 

“ _ Dr. _ Weis, Halie,” chimed in Nanny by the doorway. Note sneered behind her perfect sheet of hair, pulling her drawing-book close to her chest. Silence sung in the room before Dr. Weis slipped through his clipboard, “Todd,” his eyes moved to Pill. “Can you start off on this?” He motioned with his glasses to the cuffed teens. Question opened his mouth, “Well we-”

Nurse Nan had her hand on Question’s shoulder, “Randy, it’s not your turn.” Question, too, turned away from her words. He tried to cross his arms but the cuffed hand almost yanked Pill from his seat. The red head fixed himself back into his seat, “Boot kept trying to mess with Question so we got into a fight. Nobody picks on my boyfriend! Can’t stand guys like Boot. Question backed me up then Olive cuffed us!” Then the two raised their chained dominant hands in tandem. Dr. Weis raised his bushy brow at Nanny. 

“Todd and Randy got into a fist fight with Calvin and Nurse Oliver restrained them,” replied Nurse Nan. The doctor nodded as he wrote on his paper, “And Halie, how is your drawing coming along? Anything new?” Note shuffled her feet, rubbing them together to warm up her socks. Her graphite smeared fingertips turned the cover before handing the man her notebook. Dr. Weis flipped through the book with a nod at each drawing, “Very nice, Halie. Tell me, who’s this chappy without stems?” 

 

“That’s Beauregard,” Note muttered. The rest of the circle perked to attention to exchange glances at each other, even Float. “He’s the man who lives in the tiny door,” she continued.

“The man who lives in the walls?” he repeated slowly as he looked at each child. 

 

“He won’t open the door without an offering,” tagged in Pill.

 

“Beauregard keeps us company,” whispered Note.

“Never lets us in without a shiny shiny shine bobble whats!” swaked out Float. 

“Or a thing to crunch munch and gobble,” waved Question with a smile.

 

“When we’re in we can go where we want if we can fit,” Weston finally spoke. 

Nurse Nan snapped her eyes to Dr. Weis. Elder man was in shock just image the woman. A silent circle was all there was now. Weston’s fingers were bleeding more now as he picked his nails. Nails tearing from the bed to expose scarlet his gray sweatpants. Liquid. He felt fluid. Chair tipping back, Weston felt himself slide backwards from his chair then dropping through the floor. No air, like swimming in that sticky breakfast syrup. The young boy slammed onto the wooden floors of the mansion Tatton. No white walls and stark halls, this was the world he knew. His chest heaving, Weston pulled himself to his feet. Patting down his black dress pants, white dress shirt, black vest then touching his own face. Iron met his nose. Ten small fingernails littered a bloody spot on the parlor rug. Alone in the massive room, he took off up the grand stairs to look for anyone. Why must he be called now?! This is the worst of times! 

“Weston!” Note’s voice echoed in the sun lit corridors. The brown haired girl rushed down the stairs to meet Weston on the second floor. She looked so odd to him without her hair in her face. Pulled back into a pretty ponytail and her cheeks rosy from running. Normally in white sweat-clothes now in a tidy white frock, knee socks, and Sunday shoes. A small pale pink backpack on her shoulders, Note looked totally bizarre.

“I’ve never met another person here,” she panted.

 

“Neither have I other than Cigarette and Nanny,” he replied. 

 

“This is so strange. If you’re here, then maybe the others are as well.”

 

Weston nodded before he began to search the halls with Note. She had him stop in the hall by one of Beauregard’s doors then snapped one of the shiny buttons off his vest. Weston didn’t protest to the ruining of his clothes knowing that Note would have a reason. Knock knock knocking on the small door a moment, “Excuse me!”

 

It cracked a little and slender fingers took the button from Note’s hand, “Yes, my dear?” 

“Hello sir! Do you have any bandages?” 

A stench of musky unclean breath followed mutters and clunking noise. With a clank bang bump and thunk, Beauregard handed Note a roll of gauze and medical tape. The girl did her best to wrap up Weston’s bleeding fingertips, “Hopefully we can find someone soon. It’s weird to be here during the day-time.” 

“Yeah, it’s usually storming. Float should be easy to find. She wouldn’t get far with how tied up she it. Her webs are really strong.”

 

With bandaged fingers Weston and Note moved on. Only the sound of their footsteps echoed in the halls. He didn’t like the quiet. Clip clap clip clap their shoes pat on the hardwood flooring. 

 

“No no! Don’t- No not that way!” Question’s voice crashed from a room they had passed.

 

“Ouch! Quit pulling on it like that it-Ywouch!” Pill’s voice cried next.

 

Weston held back to the massive double doors they had skipped in the hall. Heavy solid oak took both of them to open. The big boys had their arms twisted in a funny way, the chain on the handcuffs very tense and scrunched. Their wrists looked painfully red, Question was close to bleeding. 

 

“Ah! Pints!” Pill called with a smile to the two little kids. “Come help us! Grab us, one each!” 

 

They both readied a foot on a leg rest as Weston grabbed Question around the middle, Note the same with Pill. One a count of three, the small kids pulled with all their might. Grunts and strains came from all four but the big kids much more so. Their arms twisting more and more, both looking close to dislocating at the shoulder. Plink and crash! Each pair flew back against something hard. Weston hit his head on the floor before having the wind knocked out of him by the larger Question landing on him. Pill billied onto Note, a muffled crack came from her pack. The red head teen pulled himself up quick, “Are you okay?” The girl threw off her pastel backpack, unzipped it with haste, searching inside it. All of her pencils were broken. 

After a while of raiding the room (the music room) for pencils or pens, the four regrouped. Note shared the rest of the gauze bandage with Question with great reluctance. His wrist was raw and bloody. Pill gave the brunette a kiss on the forehead and a smile, an attempt to try and cheer up his partner. “We should go to our rooms,” suggested Pill. “Maybe we can get some rest before we get sent back to the White Space.”

“No!” cried Note, “We need to explore as much as possible! If we got back the White Space, we’ll just meet up again later.”

“I assume that you two have only been alone here?” questioned Pill. “We’re always together nowadays.” 

Even now they were seperated by the cuffs the two were holding hands. “That doesn’t matter! Note’s right. We need to find Float then keep searching. We’ve been brought here for a reason. We need to find whatever he brought us together to see,” Weston said oddly mature. 

 

Question crossed his arms in dislike but Pill took his hand again to give him a soft gray-eyed gaze. 

 

“ _ Shine magic shine! Chirp chirp cheerp and beerp! Tweetle-ty tweet says my birdie _ !” sang the unmistakable insanity of Float from the main floor. The group made quick towards the deranged singing.

“ _ Gobblty gack, none for me! I’ll have my favorite roast tweety _ !”

 

The big boys pulled open the heavy door to the dining room. At the large table, danced the bound spider-child. She kicked plates off the table with a shatter, punted a pitcher and side-shot a candelabra. Food, beverages and broken candles litter the floor as well as shards of ceramics. Her singing was silenced by a hunk of some fowl in her fangs. She did her best to eat it with one go but the cooked bird fell to the table, splat. Question picked up the small spider-child to set her on the floor. Against Weston and Note’s wishes, the big boys tied to untangle Float from her webbings. 

“No use! None at all! You’ll fail and fall! Only He can get me out, He is the one we must look look look! Beep Beep Girl knows! The one with patchy hair!” Float cackled out a fake coughing hack. Cigarette? How would she know? Nobody has seen her in days. Float said some crazy things but most of the time, she was right in some way or another. Note kept a hand on Float’s back as they set out again to find Cigarette. The spider-girl’s bushy black hair was down her back, a massive untamed mane. Her four sets of eyes were visible as a bright and scary maroon. She wiggled and squirmed as they walked to adjust her bound arms. 

 

“Cigarette’s room is right next to mine. Let’s hurry and get up there before Nanny or Mr. Weis gets us back to the White Space,” Weston said as he pointed up to the second floor. “Hopefully Governess isn’t up there with her.” 

 

“You shouldn’t have talked!” Note hissed as she yanked Float and the boy behind a bust-stand. The big boys had stayed behind the corner while the other three hid out of sight. Governess was in the hallway with Cigarette in a wheelchair. The feeble girl was bone-thin, her hair stringy and balding in places. Oxygen prongs shuffed in her nose and a needle-bag drip dripping into her arm. The woman was returning Cigarette to her room. The group held their breath in wait for the stout woman to leave. 

 

“There you are!!” screamed a voice from behind the little kids. A hand reached to Weston’s shirt, “Get back here at once young man!!” It was Nanny. She pulled and yanked at him, the mansion walls blinded white in an instant. His fancy dress clothes were bloodied gray sweat-clothes once again. Nurse Nan finally pulled Weston out from the little kids’ ward, a cowering five year old in the corner. Weston’s hands were smeared in fresh and dried blood, all his own. Ten fingernails were missing from his hands but one still clung on by a cuticle. Fear drummed his heart against his chest as he let out a horrified, panicked scream. 


End file.
